The author went back and forth about keeping a Tupperware bowl from his childhood while downsizing.
Courtesy of Jesse Gormley
Recently, after a major change in my personal life, I relocated from a single-family home to a 660-square-foot apartment. Transitions are hardly ever easy. Among all the uncertainty that comes with moving from a large living space to a smaller one is figuring out what to do with all your stuff. It's a weird predicament to be in, standing inside what is soon to be your former house, surrounded by possessions and knowing that not all of them can come with you.When I started packing things up, some decisions took all of two seconds. The television was coming with me. So were my clothes, kitchenware, and the handful of pieces of furniture that would actually fit in my new apartment. Easy.After that, though? That's when the real decisions get made.I made three piles to help me decide what to take with meI found myself standing in the middle of the room holding things that had somehow survived every move I'd ever made. Empty iPhone boxes? Straight into the trash. Old moto jacket? That one stayed in my hands for a long bit while I tried to decide whether I still liked it or just liked the version of myself who used to wear it.Before long, I'd created three piles: keep, donate, and one more — the one that kept growing, and growing, and growing. The pile of "indecidables."As a kid, we had a very old-school, oversize yellow Tupperware bowl that served primarily as our popcorn bowl, but my mom used it at Christmastime to store her cookies. When I tell you this bowl is big, I mean you had to carry it with both hands, even as an adult. And I certainly didn't need it. I also didn't have a place to store it. It was in and out of the toss pile more times than I care to mention.Decluttering during the move changed my relationship with possessionsDownsizing is low-key grief. You don't realize the invisible burden your possessions have been until it's time to part ways with them. Every box you tape shut is a decision. Every trash bag, a choice.As I began settling into my new place, I figured I'd miss the stuff I couldn't keep. What really surprised me, though, was how quickly it all kind of faded from my consciousness. It made me wonder whether I'd been hanging onto all of it for all those years because I needed it, or because I hadn't bothered to stop to ask if I still did.
